


you'll glitter and gleam so

by skatingsplits



Series: skatingsplits' kinktober 2020 [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Corsetry, F/F, Kinktober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatingsplits/pseuds/skatingsplits
Summary: No language from any planet since the dawn of time itself has sufficient words for River to express how she feels about the vision of the Doctor anxiously biting at her bottom lip, hands on her hips, while wearing one of River's corsets.
Relationships: The Doctor/River Song, Thirteenth Doctor/River Song
Series: skatingsplits' kinktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956301
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	you'll glitter and gleam so

“I have no idea why you're getting all cross with me.”

“I'm not! I didn't say a single word, I-"

“No, you didn't have to. You're about as good at controlling that pretty face of yours as at juggling a family of rabid badgers. Worse, probably. The badgers might sense a kindred spirit in you and behave themselves.”

The Doctor turns her head with a scowl that could have been called vicious if the face it came with was slightly less adorable and River's teasing smirk fades into a warmer smile before she can stop it. If there's one thing she's rarely found herself able to resist, it's a grumpy Doctor. If there's one thing she's never found herself able to resist, it's a grumpy Doctor who's nonetheless doing something that she thinks will make River happy. And right now, River is having a great deal of difficulty resisting the urge to sink to her knees and make it unmistakably clear exactly how happy her wife has made her.

“You're only proving my point, darling,” River tells her fondly, managing valiantly to remain upright. “You've never had a thought that didn't immediately flash up in neon letters across your face, and right now it's practically screaming that your wife's a sadist.”

“Well, if the stiletto fits,” The Doctor grumbles.

“Actually, this is a very sensible court shoe,” is River's retort. “And may I remind you for the twenty-seventh time this evening that this wasn't my idea?”

“It hasn't been twenty-sev-"

“Believe me, I've counted. I always keep score after that thing with the dolphins in Machu Picchu.” Two sets of eyes meet in the mirror, engaged in a silent to-and-fro that might have seemed like a meaningless silence to the inexperienced observer, until the bigger, browner pair soften.

“This wasn't my idea,” River repeats, her hands sliding over cinched waist and coming to rest on bare shoulders. “But if it had been, I'd be very, very pleased with myself right now. Even more than usual.”

“Don't think that's possible,” the Doctor scoffs, but River can feel the tension in the muscles beneath her hands, hard and unyielding. She presses her thumb against a divot in the Doctor's spine and watches in the mirror as green eyes widen for a moment before the shutters go back down again. “It's just... Look, it's not like it matters, really. It's just- you don't think it looks a bit daft?”

River Song prides herself on having a fairly large vocabulary. It's a natural side effect of speaking eighteen languages fluently, and enough of at least thirty others to book a hotel room by the hour, order a rare steak and tell a police officer that yes, actually, you _are_ trying to steal the travel papers in their back pocket. But no language from any planet since the dawn of time itself has sufficient words for River to express how she feels about the vision of the Doctor anxiously biting at her bottom lip, hands on her hips, while wearing one of River's corsets.

The fabric, which River had called “seafoamy turquoise” and which the Doctor had called “green", is exquisite. It's one of her favourite pieces, bought half a century ago from an old woman on Darbodia who'd had the dingiest dressmaker's shop River had ever seen but the finest craftsmanship this side of Galaxis Dark, and she wears it as often as she can but the light silky sheen of it looks even better against the Doctor's pale skin than her own. She'd known it would, the instant that the Doctor tentatively suggested that she might like to borrow something a little more elegant than dungarees. This, the crowning jewel in a wardrobe that empresses would (and had) kill for, had come to mind instantly and River had known that her soul would haunt every planet in seven solar systems if she didn't drag the Doctor to try it on immediately. Daft? She's never seen anything as divine as the way the Doctor's hips curve out under the boning and taper in again where soft silk turns into even softer thigh. Words could never do it justice.

So River doesn't use words. Within a heartbeat, her hand is curled into short, blonde hair, pulling her wife's head back so that her tongue can be put to better use than merely explaining that the Doctor is the most beautiful thing she's ever seen in all her lives. From the tiny noise that the Doctor makes, River can guess that she pulled a little too hard but she hardly cares, nothing matters except making sure that her wife knows how utterly perfect she is.

This time, she doesn't bother to stop herself; she's on her knees before she can even take a proper breath, panting a little as she nips at the ridiculously soft skin of the Doctor’s inner thigh.

“River...” comes her wife's voice floating down from above but River just shakes her head. Usually can only just stop herself quipping for long enough to make the Doctor come but right now, the last thing she wants to do is talk.

They hadn't yet got round to the garters neatly arranged in her underwear dresser, the matching silk French knickers she usually wears with this, and though she's determined to see the full ensemble sooner rather than later, for now River is exceptionally grateful. There's no barrier to the hot, wet flesh she loves so much, she doesn't have to hesitate for a second before her mouth is saying what words couldn't have done justice to. In any circumstance, River adores eating her wife's cunt. Now, overcome by both beauty and vulnerability, she utterly loses herself in it. It could have been hours, minutes, seconds, when she feels short nails dig into the base of her neck- a telltale sign of impending orgasm that she knows as well as the way her own stomach tightens and coils- and redoubles her efforts. The Doctor's moans are low-pitched, harsh and completely beautiful, and when River is eventually satisfied that her task is complete and pulls back, her hands are literally quivering with arousal.

“So am I safe in assuming you like it?” The Doctor asks, breaking the silence, still a little breathless but smiling so widely that River could count all her pretty, pearly teeth. Rolling her eyes, River sinks her teeth into her wife's thigh in lieu of a response, earning herself a sharp tug on her hair that's almost as satisfying as feeling the Doctor coming apart under her tongue.

“You always look beautiful,” River says simply as she gets to her feet, and doesn't miss the way the Doctor’s eyes flicker away from hers when she realises the compliment isn't coming with a joke attached. “But yes, darling, I like it.”

She cups the Doctor's jaw in her hand, gently tilts it so their eyes meet again. It's a rather wonderful thing, River thinks, for two people who love the sound of their own voices as much as they do to be able to say so much with so little.

“Does this mean you'll try a fez now, or-

“ _Doctor_.”

**Author's Note:**

> these kinktober prompt fills are all fairly short but if you want to give me a prompt for a longer fic, please feel free to do so @ marisacoulterr on tumblr!


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